


When the leaves are falling

by noxsoulmate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe, Death from Old Age, Destiel Promptober, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Grieving Dean, Hopeful ending?, I Made Myself Cry, Kinda, M/M, Old Dean Winchester, Profound Bond, Sad with a Happy Ending, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 14:29:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12533708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: After over sixty years of a blissful life together, it’s time for Dean to say goodbye to his husband Castiel. Or is it?





	When the leaves are falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GirlsRuletheWorld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlsRuletheWorld/gifts).



> I promised myself to never write MCD, so why the heck did I write this? I’m so sorry :'(  
> This is for Promptober in the Facebook Group “Destiel NaNoWriMo” – today’s word was “Fall”. The quote you’ll find in this fic is from Nikki Rowe.

 

_Castiel Winchester_

_September 18, 1978 – October 28, 2075_

_“Our souls speak a language that is beyond human understanding …_

 

Dean could hardly read the engraving on the little silver plaque. He tried to fool himself into believing that it was because of old age but the tears running down his cheeks proved him wrong.

“I miss you, Sweetheart,” he whispered into the wind. Carefully, he lowered himself onto the bench, not caring about brushing the leaves away first. With a shaky hand, wrinkled and covered in age marks, he stroked over the shiny plaque, so fresh and new on the old wood of this bench. For a moment, he considered leaning back and fully settling but it felt wrong.

This was Castiel’s bench, not his.

Dean leaned heavily on his cane, trying to push himself back on his feet. He knew how much their children would hate to know Dean had come here alone – but then again, they probably knew he’d done it the moment they realized he’d left the funeral service. Not that he was heartless, he knew how much Emma, Jack, and Claire needed this service to say goodbye to their dad.

But it was not for Dean.

No, Dean needed to be here to say goodbye to his Love.

It took him three tries, but finally, Dean was on his feet again and took the few slow steps over to the bench next to Castiel’s.

Over to his own bench.

As he sat down, he let out a loud groan. At the age of ninety-six, every bone and every muscle in his body hurt. Still, his heart and the deep, deep gap his husband’s death had left in it hurt even more. Looking over to where his Sweetheart used to sit with him, Dean brushed away a tear.

Thinking about it, Cas dying on a beautiful day in fall was bound to happen.

They had met on these two benches some sixty-five years ago in early October, the first leaves just falling.

They had shared their first kiss on these two benches, the leaves falling all around them, engulfing them in their own little world.

They had met here after their first real fight, talking it out and making up, the leaves never leaving their side.

The falling leaves had cushioned Dean’s knee when he’d gone down on one, asking Cas to spend the rest of his life with him.

The falling leaves had once more surrounded them when they had said yes to each other just a little over sixty years ago, shortly after it finally had become legal in America.

The falling leaves had been the first experience for their kids, all of them born in fall three, five, and eight years after Dean and Castiel had said yes to each other.

With that record, Dean should have known that it would be when the leaves are falling that he would have to say goodbye to Castiel, his Sweetheart, his Love.

“I don’t know if I can do this without you,” he whispered once more, looking over at Castiel’s bench. And it really was Cas’ bench, just as much as the one he was sitting on was Dean’s. A decade ago, as a present for their Golden Wedding Anniversary, their children had surprised them with this gift. They’d bought the two benches from the city and they’d officially become the Winchester benches. Just a few days ago, Dean and Castiel had come here together to celebrate their Diamond Wedding Anniversary.

It had been the last time Dean had seen his Sweetheart sitting on that bench.

Closing his eyes, Dean remembered his husband’s sweet smile. His loving gaze. His soft touch.

His voice. _Hello, Dean_.

He’d heard this lovely phrase his whole life. He’d woken up to it every morning for over sixty years. Even when dementia had made Cas slowly forget their friends, their family, even their children in these past few months. Even then, Castiel had never forgotten who Dean was and not a day had gone by without Dean waking up to two blue eyes gazing at him, a soft smile on his husband’s lips, and a serene _Hello, Dean._

And God, how he missed that.

It had only been three mornings now that he had to wake up without Castiel and it had been the three worst mornings of his life. The three worst _days_ of his life.

“And even if I could,” Dean whispered again, knowing the wind would carry his words to Castiel. “I don’t think I want to.”

One last time, Dean opened his eyes and looked over to where Castiel used to sit. It was probably just his imagination, but he thought he saw a ghostly figure sitting there.

A blissful smile tugged at his lips as he let his eyes fall shut again, losing track of time.

The wind seemed to lessen, the rustle of the falling leaves around him faded away. A warm light bloomed in front of him, growing bigger, more intense, warmer with every second that passed.

He walked towards it.

When he opened his eyes again, the leaves were still falling around him.

But the colors seemed brighter and the pain in his body was gone.

“Hello, Dean.”

When he looked over, Dean was met with a sight that would forever live in his memory: his beautiful husband, smiling, eyes shining, head slightly tilted to one side. He was young again, his dark hair as unruly as it had ever been.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Cas continued, reaching a hand out towards Dean.

When he took it, Dean saw that the wrinkles and age marks on his own hand were gone. It looked young and healthy again, just as Dean himself felt.

His husband didn’t leave him much time to think about it as he got up and pulled Dean after him.

“I knew you wouldn’t keep me waiting for long.”

With that, he pulled Dean into his arms and into a deep and loving kiss.

 

~*~

 

The day after Cas’ funeral, Dean’s bench was adorned with a matching little silver plaque.

 

_Dean Winchester_

_January 24, 1979 – October 31, 2075_

_… A connection so rare the universe won't let us part.”_

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Hands out tissues* I'm really sorry for this :'(
> 
> My next fic will be a fluffy one again, I promise <3


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